Refraction
by D.Genesis
Summary: He had always likened Max to that of a natural disaster; the kind that you didn't pay much attention to until you were left in the wake of its devastation and only then realised the error you'd made. A companion piece to Kaleidoscope.


**Summary: **He had always likened Max to that of a natural disaster; the kind that you didn't pay much attention to until you were left in the wake of its devastation and only then realised the error you'd made. _**A companion piece to Kaleidoscope - Alec's take on things**_.  
**Warnings: **AU, language, adult themes. Possible sexual content. **Unbeta'd  
****Disclaimer** This is a work of fanfiction, written purely to entertain myself and (hopefully) whoever else stumbles upon this and finds it entertaining.

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**_Refraction_**

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**--x&x--**

**Part one: Broken Glass**

**--x&x--**

Alec should have seen it coming, really he should. Everything had been going so well for him lately that he should have known it wouldn't last. Nothing ever did and definitely not for him. _Never_ for him, but he'd grown complacent.

He'd noticed Max growing more and more unhappy as the days had gone by. Had tried to think up ways of keeping her distracted from the woes of her life—the primary one being that of her not-quite-like-that relationship with one Logan Cale. But heists and jobs could only keep a girl that slept roughly an hour or two busy for so long before things would drift back in and then the light in her eyes would vanish and she'd go off somewhere to brood.

Except this time it didn't _feel_ like she was brooding. In fact, Alec couldn't even sense the frigidness that he was so used to feeling when Max was in one of her broody moods. The ones that usually had people flying for cover or avoiding her for hours on end which meant that either she was out at Crash—doubtful, since he had gone past and hadn't seen her bike—or she was sleeping, which was simply odd.

Since when had Max taken to napping in the afternoons?

"Max!" Alec called, hammering loudly on her apartment door whilst carefully juggling the box of things he had painstakingly selected and brought back for her. "You in there?"

He glanced around the deserted, lowly lit hall outside her apartment and knocked again. Regretting giving the key back to her. Not that it would usually have been much of an issue for him to gain access, but he thought pissing her off by breaking into her place wasn't a great idea. He peered down at the box, hoping that she had gotten over whatever mood she'd been in before—and if not, that she'd accept his peace offering. She hadn't even bothered to see him off on that death trap they called a cruise ship.

The door opened and Alec's emotions and musings came to an immediate halt. Barely been gone a week and already he'd been replaced. Part of him had been hoping that Max would keep his old room empty. Last he'd checked, she hadn't been particularly inclined to find someone to room with her. Clearly she had been busy while he was away.

_What did you expect?_ he mused, trying not to be resentful.

Max had her own life to live, while he had his new life with Rachel. His wife. Right, she was his wife now. That was going to take some getting used to. Even if it did feel more wrong now than ever before. But it was the _right_ thing to do. It was the way Ordinaries pledged their love to one another. It was what Max had expected of him and who was he to disappoint her? He was always trying his hardest not to.

"Biggs," he gave a tight grin, unable to even work up enough energy to hide behind his devil-may-care façade. His eyes though, remained just this side of icy as they settled on the other male transgenic.

If not Jet it just had to be Biggs, didn't it? Max couldn't have chosen someone else to room with her. Preferably someone he knew stood further down on the proverbial food chain. Someone who he knew wouldn't be a rival for her attention. Someone who _didn't_ have the hots for her, damn it.

_Is that too much to ask for?_ Apparently, it was.

"That didn't take long…" he muttered, and shifted his glance past the other male's shoulder, mostly ignoring him. "Max in?"

Biggs snorted in something close to amusement, then tossed Alec a set of keys. "She wasn't sure when you'd drop by," he replied instead and took a step back to let Alec in.

There, Alec was immediately struck by how cold the place was. How _empty_ it seemed now.

Sure, it still looked mostly unchanged, with the same small, lopsided table that Max had scrounged up and the mismatched chairs Alec himself had picked out.

The scorch mark on the roof above the stove where Max had burned his oatmeal a countless number of times at breakfast and yet somehow, managed to make them _perfect_ roast chicken whenever they'd managed to get it.

The stain on the carpet still looked almost like a bloody crescent, where they had fought over Logan and dropped a bottle of expensive wine. And that ridiculous wilting pot plant that she had taken on as some kind of project—Why exactly? Alec couldn't say, except maybe it had something to do with discolouration because it was definitely more yellow and brown than last he'd seen.

Alec knew then, before Biggs had even finished speaking and he twisted around on the spot to look at the stairs that led to her bedroom door. Box dropping from listless fingers as the realisation sunk in and that strange sensation in his stomach finally made sense. Max wasn't there. She was…

_Gone._

"Said that you could keep your room. Or find someone else to take it," Biggs shrugged, uncaring. "I'm just here to water her plant."

"And a fine job you're doing there, pal," Alec observed sarcastically, dropping his hands into his pockets, he tried for a casual tone when he really felt like his entire world had been inverted and thrown completely off kilter. Like suddenly the sky was green, the grass blue and fish flew across the sky.

"Yeah well, I wasn't exactly trained in the art of plant watching," Biggs pointed out, his lip twitching upwards faintly. He sank down onto the broken couch that Alec had secured some months ago and let out a sigh. "Want something to drink? The scotch is where you left it."

Alec ignored the words, trying not to feel so irked at the other's familiarity of the place. "She say when she was gonna be back?" Hope wasn't something Alec was familiar with, nor had he put all that much faith into the sentiment before but it was all he had left at this point. Gesturing loosely at the box on the ground, he cleared his throat. "This stuff I got her wasn't cheap. She owes me."

Pulling a crumpled envelope from his pocket, Biggs tossed it to Alec. "She isn't coming back, Alec," Biggs said. He didn't turn to look at Alec as he spoke, choosing instead to flip his pocketknife aimlessly. "Something about family and finishing something she'd started…"

Catching the flimsy pocket of paper, Alec nimbly tore it open and withdrew the letter from within. The writing was a tight, angular scrawl, like she was in a rush and had written it while packing. It wouldn't surprise him.

_Alec_, the letter began.

_I've already spoken with Josh and Sketchy, so that leaves you for the farewells. Decided I needed to leave Seattle. You were right about that day. I was planning on leaving, but with Sam being killed by White and all, then with trying to get her family away to safety, I stuck around. You were right about the reasons too, I guess. For both. _

_Keep Sketch out of trouble for me, will you? He's as bad as you. And don't be an idiot, running off half-cocked, you won't have me to bail your ass out anymore. By the way, lay off on Jet. He's been helpful the past few months. Just make sure he doesn't over water my plant._

_Max_

The letter left Alec feeling like something had withered and died inside of him. _So that was why she hugged me_… he reflected, thinking back on her actions during the reception. Her tight smile as she offered her congratulations, the new darkness that he couldn't interpret in her gaze. Then she'd been off, had vanished into the thick crowd celebrating the union. Alec hadn't seen her since.

It hurt, knowing now that she had been saying goodbye without him being aware and left him feeling well… cheated.

While they hadn't exactly been on amiable terms in the beginning—her abhorrence of him had been plain enough to even a blind man—they'd come a long way. He considered her his friend. His best friend, his role model and most importantly—his family. She had given him a purpose once Manticore had burned down and Alec couldn't get his head around the fact that she'd left him behind. With only a _letter_. A scribble covered paper that didn't explain the half of what she was thinking—let alone where she intended to go. Even Biggs had gotten a better explanation. Hell, Jet got her plant to take care of…

That empty feeling however, was soon surpassed by equal amounts of concern and fury.

Max was on the top of White's shit list, Alec himself was a close second as her constant companion. That had been one of the reasons she had wanted to leave originally. Because White had found her and gotten to O.C, then he somehow managed to find Sam and had her strung up by his pack of his snake worshiping psychos in little to no time.

Alec could still recall the scene with a disturbing clarity.

The warehouse Sam had been found in was rank with the scent of blood, scorched hair and flesh. The smell so pungent that he could taste it on the air with every inhalation. Sam's brutalised body, suspended in bloody chains and rags. Her eyes dim, film covered and glassy. She'd been stretched to the point her joints had come out of their sockets, preventing most movement even if she had gotten down somehow. Then, someone had started the process of slowly skinning her. Taken out chucks and then started the process of bleeding her dry.

Later, it had made him sick to acknowledge it—she had been a fellow soldier, Max's genetic twin—but seeing Sam's body up there, looking like some horror flicks version of a crucifixion, had made him disgustedly glad that it was her and not Max.

"_We were too late," _Max had muttered, seemingly in her own state of shock once Sam had been taken down and what remained carted off to be cremated. He had wondered then if she was thinking the same thing as him. That it could very well have been _her_ in Sam's stead.

"_No," _Alec had countered_. "We weren't." _He hadn't elaborated. Didn't need to. They had gotten to Sam's family in time and saved them. Helped them out of the country and over the border to Canada as had been the younger twin's wish. It was the least Alec could do for Sam, for dying in Max's place.

"How long she been gone?" He asked, calculating the odds of where she had vanished to. Which routes would have taken longest out of Seattle… the backstreets… checkpoints. How easily she could have escaped Seattle without picking up an annoying Familiar tail. If he had a chance of catching up within the week and dragging her back—kicking and screaming if need be. He didn't care if she ended up hating him again, as long as she continued to _breathe_.

Dialling her number, he wasn't really surprised to hear her phone go off a second or so later. Coming from the fruit bowl. She had the strangest habit of leaving her cell phone in it, of all places. Alec had been the unfortunate one to find it once, coated in questionable, sticky fruit pulp.

The dark-haired transgenic on the couch didn't look up. "'Bout a week."

"A _week_?" Alec exclaimed, spinning to face Biggs. That meant she'd gone the very day of his wedding. Probably right after she had wished him and Rachel luck. That information made him swallow hard. Anything could happen in a week. Hell, he'd nearly had his head blown off within 24 hours, Sam had been tortured and killed within 48. Anything could happen to Max in a whole 168 hours. "You saw what White did to Sam, why didn't try to stop her!?"

"Hey it's not my fault!" Biggs objected, appearing greatly offended. He stood up, frowning. "You know when Max has her mind set on something there's no stopping her. Why didn't _you_ try to stop her?" He asked.

"I didn't know she was planning on going!" Alec defended, though thinking back on it he had known. Had seen the signs. The way she was distancing herself from everyone, was slowing drawing up her emotional shields ready for when she dropped everything and left them all behind. He envied her that. But he had thought that after Sam's grisly slaughter, she wouldn't have risked it. Didn't think she had it in her.

Though, now he thought on it, her hugging him was extremely out of character for Max. Positive physical contact between still usually consisted of her slapping over the head, the difference being it didn't have any anger behind it. He was such an idiot.

"Never abandon your unit," he muttered with a derisive chuckle. "The hypocrite."

Biggs opened his mouth, thought better of it and shut it again. "Don't ever let Jet hear you saying that," he decided, instead.

With a humourless snort, Alec pocketed his carefully folded letter. "Where is he at, anyway?" He asked, dropping into Biggs' abandoned seat. "Isn't he meant to be watering Max's plant?"

"Yeah…" Biggs murmured. "He's sorta gone missing."

Alec was back up in a heartbeat. "What do you mean?" He demanded.

"Just that. He vanished," Biggs explained, appearing mostly nonplussed. Alec wasn't fooled and knew that Biggs was actually trying to read him. "We just figure he ran off after Max somewhere, since well..."

"Since?" Alec prompted, grinding his teeth.

Biggs hesitated, deliberating. Not usually the type to rush headlong into things. "Since she wasn't spoken for anymore," he shrugged, uncomfortable under Alec's searing gaze. "We were looking out for her because of you, Alec. You… cared about her. Deny it all you like. You forget me and Jet have known you a long time and your issues with her being around anyone that showed a flicker of interest in her was kinda obvious to even the more mentally impaired of our brethren—"

"Me and Max?" Alec pulled a disbelieving face then snorted for good measure. "Biggs, you have it all wrong."

"Then why did you beat Xeno into a bloody pulp?"

Alec couldn't suppress the scowl that surfaced at the mention of blonde, dimple-cheeked Xeno and his disgustingly bright blue eyes. Alec didn't understand the female half of the species and their interest in the X5. It had to be the dimples, the guy wasn't _that_ great looking. In fact, he reminded Alec of a puppy; a whiny chick magnet. "He wasn't good enough for Max and would have strung her along. I know his type."

Biggs rolled his eyes at this explanation. "He would have treated her as the Queen to his isolated little universe," he refuted. "Quinn?"

"He was giving her trouble."

"He was _teasing_ her," Biggs countered, in poorly disguised amusement. "Like you couldn't seem to stop yourself from doing. If you and Max weren't working on something, four times in five you'd be annoying her until she'd take a swipe at you. It was like you couldn't help but poke the beehive just so you could get stung."

"So Manticore bred into me some strange traits," Alec shrugged, nonchalantly. Like the questions weren't bothering him at all. Like he wasn't wanting to track her down immediately to berate her stupidity for leaving. Or leash her so he could keep an eye on her since she believed herself indestructible. "I wouldn't be the first."

This caused both to share a look. That was, unfortunately, true.

"Dave?" Biggs prompted.

"He started it."

Considering this with a nod, Biggs moved along. "Blade, Dez, Boris, Harley?"

Opening his mouth Alec tried to think of a suitable excuse but found himself to be fresh out. He closed his mouth, cocked his head and tried again. "Harley, _really_?"

Biggs' look was bland. "Denial my friend," he stated firmly, immune to Alec's attempts at defending himself. "You'd claimed her as yours even if you hadn't marked her. We all saw it—even though you were technically with Rachel, you never looked at her the way you did Max and we all figured you'd eventually be mated to Max, so it didn't matter."

Something twisted in Alec's gut and his expression slipped beneath his neutral Manticore mask. "But I didn't," Alec said, flatly. Eyes adhered to Biggs in challenge, daring him to ignore the silent order. _Drop it._

"Yeah," Biggs replied, expression curious. "We all cared for her, you know."

Shrugging, Alec adopted a bored expression. "She was hot," he said, as if it explained his bizarre desire to do good by her and gaining her approval. To be the man she strove for him to be, despite the costs he had paid for the results. Was he simply her pet project? Would she have stayed longer if he had held off on the wedding? If he hadn't married at all?

He was pulled from his reveries by Biggs' muttering of, "Whipped."

"Like you can talk," Alec retorted. Though his words weren't filled with heat anymore. In fact, he felt almost empty. Scotch sounded like a great idea while he worked on a plan of action. Dix and Luke would help him out. But a week was a long head start. Manticore hadn't been able to find it's escapees and all Max had then was a matter of moments before a search was put out for them.

"She had that effect on people," Biggs acknowledged with a tilt of his head. "Heck she even had Mole doing her bidding however reluctant. But at least I wasn't the idiot that let her slip through my fingers."

_Logan_. How could Alec forget?

"They'd been over for months," he said. Like that meant anything. Max had still been miserable after breaking up with the Cyber journalist and Alec knew she wasn't over him just as Logan sure as hell wasn't over her. The only times she seemed to brighten and liven up a little was on the occasional heist or runs they'd do. Even movie night had helped her out of those sombre moods she'd often fall into.

Until Rachel was brought up and then Max would become depressed again. He had quickly learned not to mention Rachel.

Biggs snorted, not amused. "I'm not talking about the Ordinary," he said, giving Alec an exasperated look. "Seriously, for someone of your rank with an I.Q of 180 you sure can be dense sometimes."

"_Thanks,_" Alec remarked sarcastically, rummaging through the cabinet to retrieve his bottle of scotch from its depths. Who else was Biggs talking about? _Joshua?_

He blinked. _So not going there…_

Not seeing the point in finding a glass—Max wasn't there to debate about the drinking from glasses versus bottles and the general hygiene issue this posed, nor was she there to slap him upside the head when she lost said debate—Alec tossed back his head and drank a quarter of the alcohol from the murky bottle. The sharp burn a pleasant and familiar sensation as it flowed down his throat and into his stomach.

Rachel, he knew, wouldn't approve. She didn't much like alcohol, unless it was wine and only in _moderation_. He took another swallow, feeling a small, childish sense of triumph at his minor rebellion.

It was quickly eclipsed by the seriousness of the situation. Max was gone; he didn't know where, or if she was safe. She attracted bullets as easily as he did himself, after all he was the one who deflected them from her. He wanted to look for her but couldn't leave Rachel—his newly married wife. Friends or not, he doubted that Rachel would understand and would likely see it as abandonment and Max had always been so damn big on him not leaving family behind. She'd probably pop him one if—_when_—he found her. Because in the end, he couldn't not look for her. Couldn't settle until he knew she was safe and having Jet with her didn't automatically mean that she was.

God, he was a newly married man and all he could think of was _her_.

On his wedding day all he could look at was her; dressed in charcoal-black like she was in mourning. Somehow, she wouldn't have suited anything else.

Biggs plopped back down on the broken arm of the couch, watching his friend with a calm thoughtfulness that ought to be unnerving, but that Alec simply found perplexing. "And to think Jet used to envy you," Biggs admitted, with a shake of his dark head.

Managing to avoid choking on his mouthful of scotch, Alec slanted a glance over at his friend. Wondering what he was getting at. "What's there to envy? The extended trips to Psy-ops? Being Renfro's lap dog when she was in her more pleasant of moods and having me do her dirty work?"

"Max."

Chuckling darkly, Alec took another swig of his drink. "The grass isn't always greener on the other side, pal," he murmured, remembering that bizarre and moronic saying that Ordinaries so often used. "I'd have figured Jet had the better deal. She didn't actually hit _him_. Even if she did bitch at everyone."

"Maybe," Biggs conceded and Alec could hear the shrug in his voice. The too casual dismissal in his tone. Typical of Biggs before he unleashed a flurry of punches or kicks on the sparring mats. Biggs' mouth twitched a little as he added, "but it wasn't Jet she was in love with. I know for a fact he'd take her hits for that any day."

Alec's eyes snapped up.

_She loves_… He viciously quashed the tiny flicker of… something that felt suspiciously a lot like hope. Couldn't believe that perfect, bitchy Max could have somehow fallen for him—It was too much for even his revved up mind to well and truly get his head around. Ok, so he got that they were friends—that much his mind could fathom—because even if she was an überbitch a majority of the time, it was only a cover for the softer, vulnerable side to her he'd glimpsed only a handful of times. But still, her being in lo… _interested_ in him? No way.

"That isn't funny."

Biggs' rejoinder was equally as blunt and his expression didn't waver. "Wasn't meant to be." The silence stretched on for moments more until Biggs finally caved. "So," he drawled out, suddenly smirking. "We gonna go looking for her or not?"

Did Biggs even need to ask? But…

Alec had promised himself to Rachel. He _loved_ Rachel and she wouldn't understand what he needed to do. Why he needed to do it and probably never would. Rachel wasn't Manticore, didn't understand the strong attachments formed through their strange genetics. Wouldn't comprehend that even though he was married to her that he would never, ever truly belong to _only_ her.

"She'll get herself killed if we don't," Alec replied, standing and recapping his bottle of scotch.

He had always likened Max to that of a natural disaster; the kind that you didn't pay much attention to until you were left in the wake of its devastation and only then realised the error you'd made. The difference being, he was one of the few people who _never_ underestimated her and maybe that was what made it all the more difficult to face once he realised that—for once, maybe—he had.

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You'll probably note that the parts of this are actually linked more with Kaleidoscope. The next part is "Light"

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed seeing things from Alec's perspective.


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